


joy to the world

by skuls



Series: Joy to the World [1]
Category: The X-Files
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-30
Updated: 2017-06-30
Packaged: 2018-11-21 08:34:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,223
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11353770
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/skuls/pseuds/skuls
Summary: Mulder and Scully get William back.





	joy to the world

They've grown apart in the recent weeks.

The first few days were a whirlwind of time on the run, in the car. Suffocating space, Scully clutching his hand in both of hers over the console. Pressed together under hotel comforters, holding each other tightly. They didn't talk about their son, and it was okay. Their son remains the inevitable ghost between them, even though he is not dead. There are so many dead people between them -  _ the dead are not lost to us, _ he said, and they aren’t, but William is not dead and is lost. He’s out there somewhere, and the selfish part of Mulder is angry. The selfless part is glad he is safe above all else. But the selfish part wins out too often. He wants to know, wants him back.

They didn’t talk about their son, and then Mulder made the mistake of asking about him one night, when they were sitting on the bed together, curled into each other. Because he wants to know. He immediately wished he hadn’t. The things left unsaid between them hung heavy, but at least they were still void, thoughtless ideas. Now it was real and solidified. They had to face it.

Her jaw had clenched and she huddled back against the hotel pillows, away from him. She let go of his hand. “I can't talk about that,” she muttered through clenched teeth. 

“Scully, please…” he tried, his voice thinning out. (He didn't - doesn't - blame her, but he couldn't stop picturing his son. In the hands of cultists. Monsters who want him dead. Blood on the pillow. And the inevitable question:  _ is he really safe? _ ) “I need to know…”

“I  _ can't _ ,” she said fiercely. “I can’t do it, Mulder. Please don’t ask me about him again.” 

She swung her legs over the side of the bed and walked into the bathroom without another word. He could hear her crying through the door a few minutes later. He didn't try to comfort her. He didn't know what he could say that  _ would  _ comfort her, and a very small part of him resented her. His son. He'd never see his son again. He didn't know what to say. 

So they've grown apart, because he asked and she had no answer. Because he left and left and she had no choice. Because she gave away his son while he was gone. There's a chasm, and Mulder has no idea how to repair it. He loves her, needs her. But the resentment is there, in both of them, and he doesn't know how to get past it. 

He doesn't know if they can.

\---

The Van de Kamps and their temporary son. Now there's some shit that can go on a holiday card. 

They (the Van de Kamps) have been the protectors for such a long time that they would've suspected that the kids would start to run together at this point. But they've remembered all of their (temporary) kids by name, age, personality. They are halfway parents, foster parents in the fight for the apocalypse, and they house the experiments, the abductees. The children of abductees. 

“I didn't mean to get attached to him,” Lillian Van de Kamp says quietly one night when she's feeding William Scully, another one of their temporary children.

Her husband kisses the top of her head, squeezing her shoulder. “You never do, hon,” he says softly. “But we both do it anyway. I know it's hard.”

They never intended to be this, temporary caretakers for the fighters of a government conspiracy. But that was before Lillian’s cousin, one Susanne Modeski, disappeared off the face of the earth. She reappeared years later and told them her story. What was going on in the government. What they could do to stop it. And the Van de Kamps, quiet Wyoming farmers with boring lives, had agreed. 

Lillian and Susanne had been as close as sisters growing up. She couldn't deny her anything. “This is important, Toby,” she'd told her husband the night they'd decided. “We can make a difference in the world. Save people.” 

Toby had been sitting on the floor, looking at the papers Susanne had brought. The proof. “Jesus Christ, Lil,” he'd muttered. “What are we getting ourselves into?”

“You don't want to do it?” she asked him from the bed. 

“Of course I want to do it,” he sighed. And so they did.

They couldn't do much - they were untrained, better to stay off the radar and out of suspicion. But their isolation worked in their favor. So the Van de Kamp farm became a safe house - for fugitives from the shadowy Syndicate, mainly. A lot of kids who didn’t have anyone to keep them safe. Lillian had guest rooms made over with fluffy beds and toys and books, like she was a favorite aunt with a rotating number of nieces and nephews. (That's how she thought of herself, at least. It helped. It helped a little.)

They hadn't had any guests for a while when Susanne called. Her fiance and his two best friends, she said, had just faked their deaths and dropped off the map. The ones who knew Fox Mulder, of MUFON fame, and whose current whereabouts were unknown. They'd gotten intel that Mulder's son was in constant danger. And that his mother, Dana Scully (of similar MUFON fame), was planning to give him up for adoption to keep him safe. “John doesn't think it's a good idea,” Susanne said. “He says Scully isn't thinking straight - and besides that, it's unlikely that the child will be safer with a family who has no idea how to protect him. Frohike and Langly say they can hack into the adoption agency's  mainframe and put your name on the waiting list and bump you up so you'll be the ones to adopt William. Temporarily, at least. Will you take him?”

Lillian had leaned against the kitchen counter hard, twisting the phone cord around her finger. A baby. She wondered if it'd be any easier to let go if it was a baby. Probably not, she rationalized, but that wasn't going to stop her. “Of course,” she said. “Tell me what we need to do.”

There were certain benefits to being a part of this unofficial project, including guaranteed protection if/when the apocalypse struck. There were also certain painful things involve. Lillian and Toby bought a crib for their temporary baby. Toys, clothes, baby food stocking their fridge. They took on the persona of parents about to adopt a baby boy. (Toby even put on the act of being concerned that the birth mother gave him up, an extra little flair.) And so it went. William Scully moved into their house, and Lillian tried her best to be a good aunt/temporary mother figure.

(“You're not staying here forever,” she told William firmly his first night. “You're going back to your parents eventually.”

“Gaaa,” he'd replied, tugging a handful of her shirt. And that was that.)

The MUFON chat rooms would be buzzing if they knew that  _ Fox Mulder  _ and  _ Dana Scully's  _ son was staying in their house. Agents Mulder and Scully are practically celebrities in the MUFON community, and the lore concerning their son is plentiful. “This kid has got so many powers, I'm surprised he's not Jesus,” Toby had joked when doing research on him, and Lillian had shot him a glare from the doorway. But William isn't the Messiah, or anything resembling it. He's just William. A normal kid like Toby’s sister's kids. A kid who likes to play and listen to old music and crawl around the living room. A kid who might be in danger, but who is still a kid. Lillian is a bit starstruck at first (okay, yes, she's done her research on the famed X-Files), but it fades quickly. They fall into some sort of normal. They've done this a thousand times before, but it doesn't get any easier. It's impossible not to love him, like it's impossible not to love all the other kids that come through. They just…  _ do _ .

One night, they are watching the news and it is announced that former FBI agent Fox Mulder has been arrested for the murder of a military man. “Oh my God!” Lillian gasps, dropping her knitting. 

Toby is bouncing William on his knee. When he sees the screen, he says, “There's your dad, kid,” in an affectionate tone. William gnaws his finger in reply. 

“Toby,” Lillian says, part disapproving and part concerned, gathering the tangle of yarn in her lap. Susanne and John Byers had told them that William would only be with them until they could locate Mulder and reunite him with Agent Scully when it was safe. “What does this mean?” If Mulder's arrested - or god forbid, executed - that won't be possible. William would need to stay.

Toby’s silent for a minute. “I don't know, Lil,” he says finally. He strokes William's downy head. “But you know us. We'll go with the flow.”

A week and a half later, the news is announcing Death Row Criminal Fox Mulder's Mysterious Escape From Federal Prison (Former Partner and Mother of His Child, Dana Scully, Also Missing), and Lillian feels a thunk of something between relief and disappointment in the pit of her stomach. “You'll be going home soon,” she whispers to the top of William's head, trying to push aside her tangled emotions. 

And sure enough, Susanne is showing up at their doorstep a few weeks later. “John says it's safe,” she tells them in the kitchen, when Toby has William in the high chair and a spoonful of pureed carrots in his mouth. “I've come to take him back to Mulder and Scully.”

William squeals, as if he knows what's going on, and knocks the baby food over. Lillian blinks like she's surprised. 

She's used to this, she's packed up more than one kid, made them a sandwich and kissed their heads and sent them into the dark with mysterious Susanne. But William is so little.  _ I didn't mean to get attached to him,  _ she had said, and Toby had said,  _ I know, hon.  _ But she did, of course. She did.

“I'm coming with you,” she says. “I want to make sure he gets to his parents safe.”

Susanne barely bats an eye, tells her to make sure to get the gun. Toby wants to argue, though, follows her into William's room while she packs his things. “Hon, are you sure…” he starts, uncertainly. 

“I need to do this, Tobe.” She folds onesie after onesie. 

His hand brushes her hip. “Lil, you're not his mother,” he says softly. 

_ Technically, I should be,  _ she thinks darkly.  _ His mother gave him up, even if it was for his safety. Even if she is Dana Scully. She might not want him. I want him, the same way I've wanted every kid before him to stay forever. I want to raise him. I want to knit him mittens. _

“I know,” she finally replies. “But I owe him something. I can do this. I can see this through.”

Her husband wraps his arms around her from behind, burying his head in the space between her shoulder blades. “We'll be parents someday,” he mumbles. “And right now, we're making a difference. You know we are. These kids need us.”

She kisses the fleshy spot below his thumb. “I know,” she whispers. She takes his hand and squeezes it. “Go feed William. It'll be a long trip.”

Lillian Van de Kamp packs clothes, toys, his favorite pacifier that his mother sent with him, in a tiny suitcase. She dresses William in the UFO onesie he'd worn his first night here (she has a love of the ironic) and a hat covered in stars. She lets Toby say goodbye at the door and straps the baby into his car seat.  _ I'll take care of you,  _ she thinks.  _ All the way to the end.  _

\---

Lillian knits all the way to Delaware. She's making William mittens. She and Susanne and William stay in several hotel rooms. They stop at the sights briefly, and Lillian holds William up so he can see. He waves his fist excitedly at every single one.

They find Fox Mulder at a convenience store in the middle of the night three days later. He's dressed nothing like his pictures, bearded and worn jacket instead of suit and neat haircut, shoulders slumped. Defeated. Lillian holds William on her hip and watches him from the car.  _ There's your daddy,  _ she thinks, but doesn't say it out loud. She just now wonders if he's a good father.

“This is the best chance we'll have, “ Susanne is whispering, pulling her sleeve. “Let's go…”

Lillian climbs out of the car with the baby on her hip and her purse with a gun inside dangling from one arm. She follows Fox Mulder quietly. He doesn't turn back to look at her, heads straight to his car with a brown paper bag in his arms. Maybe he's used to being followed. “Agent Fox Mulder?” she calls. 

The paper bag hits the ground. The cornered man has his gun pulled on her before she can blink twice. But his eyes widen when he turns and sees the baby. His hands tremble. 

“Don'tshoot,” Lillian gasps. Her arms tighten around William. “I'm on your side, it's okay. Please don't shoot.”

Mulder wordlessly drops the gun. His eyes are fixated on the baby. William gurgles and tucks a handful of her hair. She sways slightly to try and keep him calm, keeping her eyes on Mulder. “I'm on your side,” she repeats. “I've been keeping your son safe for you.”

Mulder is nearly trembling. “My son?” he repeats softly. A question. 

Susanne materializes at her side. “I can vouch for Lil, Agent Mulder,” she says. “She's my cousin.”

Mulder's eyes swivel, somewhat reluctantly, to Susanne. “Susanne Modeski?” he asks, dumbfounded. “What… how the hell?”

“It's a long story,” she says. “I have confirmation you can trust us, though. Old friends.” 

Susanne steps closer and passes Mulder a cell phone. Cautiously, he takes it and brings it to his ear, saying, “Hello?” He listens to a minute before laughing tearfully. “Fuck you, I thought you were dead,” he mumbles, a small smile breaking out on his face. “All of you are all right? All of you?” He sighs. “Thank fuck. I thought… I should've known you bastards were behind it all. Scully's going to be so relieved…” His voice cracks and he stops. His eyes are riveted on William once again. He has some look of awe and immense relief on his face. 

Mulder talks on the phone for a few more minutes before hanging up and passing the phone back to Susanne. “The guys…” He stops, voice shaking, and clears his throat before starting again. “The guys said we could trust you. They said…” He's addressing Lillian directly now. “They said you and your husband took care of William. That you kept him safe.”

“We did,” Lillian says. She strokes William's head, unable to help herself. “It was our pleasure.”

Mulder's eyes slip closed. “I don't know how to thank you,” he whispers. 

“Thank  _ you…  _ for fighting what's right. To keep people safe.” This is the correct answer. And this would be the correct time to hand William over, but she's afraid she won't be able to. That she won’t be able to let go. But Agent Mulder is watching her, almost has his arms held out expectantly. She presses a long kiss to William's head (which is probably impolite, but she doesn't particularly care) before handing him over. 

Mulder cradles him gingerly, like he's afraid William will break, but the love is there, visible and immense, on his face. “He's so big,” he mutters lovingly. “I haven't seen him since he was three days old.”

Lillian tries to be selfless. She reaches out and touches William's soft cheek. “Mr. Mulder,” she says. “I know it can't be easy to think about other people taking care of your son. But understand that we would do anything for William, if needed. And if it's ever not safe again… if William or you or William's mother ever need somewhere to go, to hide… know that any of you are welcome at our farm.” She means it. Sincerely.

Mulder presses his nose into his son's head and thanks her again. He's still trembling, but he holds his son close. William looks slightly confused, but not uncomfortable. He pats his father's shoulder with a tiny hand. Lillian tries not to cry. 

Susanne quickly transfers the suitcases to Mulder's car, and Lillian moves the car seat and demonstrates to Mulder how to strap him in. Mulder looks embarrassed at his parental incompetence. “His mother will know how…” he explains sheepishly. “I'll get better. I want to do right by him.”

“I know you do,” Lillian says. She thinks she finally feels better about leaving William. He'll be in good hands.

Mulder checks on William about ten times before shaking Susanne’s and Lillian’s hands. “I don't know how to thank you,” he keeps saying. 

“John says that they'll be in touch,” Susanne says. Her engagement ring glints in the dim streetlamps. “He says there's things to discuss, later. Right now you and Scully need to get to safety.”

“Right, right,” Mulder says. He checks on William one more time before climbing into the front seat and pulling away. Lillian suddenly notices he forgot his groceries. 

She goes back to knitting in the car. Something for the next kid that will grace her doorstep. She will move on, eventually. But still, tears sting the corner of her eyes. 

Susanne’s phone rings and she talks as she drives. Lillian tries not to listen. Knit one purl two. “Got another kid for you, Lil,” Susanne says when she hangs up. “Permanent this time.”

Lillian’s heart flutters in her chest. “Permanent?” she whispers, not daring to hope. 

“Older kid named Gibson Praise. You've probably heard of him - the chess prodigy who can read minds. His parents have no interest in him, and he needs a stable home. I told John we had a safe place for him.”

A permanent resident. An older kid, sure, but one who might not have to leave in the middle of the night. Someone else to help. Someone they might could be parents to. It's something. 

Lillian smiles broadly, yarn tangling around her fingers. “Of course. Of course you do.”

\---

Mulder drives probably more careful than he's ever driven in his life. He looks constantly back at William, who seems content strapped into his car seat. Not scared. Mulder, however, is terrified. Terrified of hurting his son. Terrified of fucking this up. Terrified that someone will come to take him away from them. He doesn’t think he could handle losing his son again.

His hands shake the entire way back to the hotel, and they don't quite stop until he gets out of the car and rounds it to scoop William up into his arms. The kid looks slightly suspicious, but exhaustion outweighs it and he rests his head against Mulder's shoulder wearily. Mulder kisses his small furrowed forehead. “Your mom's right inside,” he whispers. 

“Maaaa.”

“Uh-huh. She's missed you.” He rubs William's little back. “I've missed you, too, buddy,” he whispers. “So much.” William tips his head onto Mulder's collarbone and looks at up with Scully's bright blue eyes. Mulder kisses him again before turning towards the shabby hotel room. 

Scully is asleep in a tangle of blankets when he gets in, dark hair just barely visible over the dusty comforter. “Scully,” Mulder whispers, trying not to scare William. “Hey, Scully, it's me.”

“Mmf,” she mutters, not looking up. “Not now, Mulder. I'm exhausted.”

“Scully…” he tries.

“I can't do this right now!” Her voice snaps across the room, loud and angry, and William jolts in surprise, eyes wide. He whimpers, loud enough to hear, and Scully freezes. Mulder can't see her face, but he can tell she's awake. Knows she's heard the sound and recognized it. Their son.

“Scully,” he says again, softer. “I've got William here with me.”

The comforter moves, Scully shoving it aside and struggling to sit up. “William?” she whispers tearfully, searching the room, eyes full of terror.

Mulder approaches the bed carefully. “William,” he confirms. “He's right here, Scully, he's just fine.”

She sniffles, sitting up on the bed. Her eyes are fixed on William, but she makes no move to take him. “How?” she whispers. “Mulder, what…”

“His guardians were allies of ours. Cousin of Susanne Modeski, remember her, Scully… Scully, the Gunmen are alive. I talked to them.” She covers her mouth with one hand, a tear trickling down her cheek. “They kept him safe for us,” Mulder says softly. “And then they brought him here.”

Scully reaches for him all at once and Mulder shifts him forward. William still looks confused for a split second before he recognizes her - she's dyed her hair, but underneath it all she is still Scully, still his mother - and he eagerly snuggles into her. Scully is crying, about two steps away from hysterical, and hugging him tightly. She kisses him again and again, whispering his name to the top of his head: “William, William, William…”

“Mama,” William says, tugging Scully's t-shirt in his tiny fist. “Mamama…”

Scully sniffles, pressing her nose to his head. “Scully,” Mulder whispers, touching her hair. “Scully…” He leans in to kiss her forehead, cupping William's head in his palm. (He can't believe they're both here.) “Was that… were those… was that his first word?”

Scully sniffles again. “It's not his first word,” she whispers, rocking William. The mattress ripples with their motions. “He's just babbling… and whether it is or it isn't, I wouldn't  _ know,  _ Mulder, because I haven't seen him for  _ months _ … I gave him away.  _ God _ . I gave him away.”

He's crying, too, his eyes and nose burning. “Shh,” he tries to soothe, wrapping his arms around them both. Scully tucks her head into the crook of his neck, still clutching William tightly, and William leans back into his chest with ease. “It's okay, Scully,” he whispers.

She's shaking with the force of her sobs. “Don't you realize, Mulder, that if the, the Gunmen or whoever hadn't interfered that we  _ never  _ would've seen him again? Our  _ son _ . And it's my fault… I sent him away, my god.” A prayer to God or to William, he isn't sure. But she is asking forgiveness either way.

“You just wanted to keep him safe,” Mulder whispers. William's little nose is turned into his chest, and the small contact makes him want to shatter. He sniffles. “You can't… can't fault yourself for that.”  

“I regretted it,” Scully says. Her shoulders tremble under his arms. “As soon as that social worker took him away, I regretted it… I wanted to tell her to come back, that I'd changed my mind…”

“I know, I know.” He cups the back of her head, stroking her hair with his thumbs. 

“You resented me,” she mumbles. “You blamed me, I know you did.”

It's true. He doesn't want to say it, but it's true. “He's here now,” he says instead. 

“So it's easy for you to forgive me because you don't have to face what I did.”

“I would've forgiven you either way,” he says, and he would've. He would've, eventually - maybe because he needed her and he didn't have a choice, but he would've. “It was as much my fault as yours. I left you. I left you. You didn't have a choice. We both fucked up, but it's in the past. We can't change it. And he's here now. What happened before  _ doesn't matter  _ because he's here and he's just fine.” He pulls back a little bit to kiss the top of William's head. His tears dot his son's downy hair. “He's perfect, Scully. Look what we did.” Mulder thumbs a tear away from the corner of her eye. 

“He's so perfect,” Scully whispers. “I never should've let him go.”

“It's okay.” He strokes her cheek. “It's over now. We can put it behind us and move on.”

“Mulder…”

“I love you.” He kisses her, slowly, on the mouth, and then William again on the top of the head. “I forgive you. William forgives you. It's okay.”

Scully sniffles, kisses him before lowering her face back to William's head. “I'm so sorry, baby,” she whispers. “I'm so, so sorry.”

“Mama,” says William, patting her face. Scully laughs a tear-choked laugh and scoots backwards on the bed to lean against the pillows. Mulder crawls in beside her, wrapping his arms back around her. Scully leans into him. He holds her and she holds their son and they sit there like that for a long, long time. 

William dozes off sweetly on his mother's chest, little fingers tangled into her hair. Scully falls asleep, too, her head lolling against Mulder's shoulder. Mulder arranges the blankets over them. It's one of the more peaceful moments in his life. And the happiest - definitely one of the happiest. He loves them both so much it hurts. It seems, in the moment, like the entire world, right here in this hotel room. His whole family. 

 

**Author's Note:**

> It was hard to decide how to portray the Van de Kamps here, since I wanted to do it in a way that was fair to them. Making them allies who were keeping William safe seemed like the smartest route. It was interesting to explore this alternative possibility and characterize the VDKs as such.


End file.
